


to kill a rabbit

by hypnoticinsanity



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma, Corruption, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mind Control, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Some Fluff, and he will appear only in memories and in being mentioned, bi grian because he was canonically bi in ts <3, but it is, everyone gets some trauma, it is grian centered but also its not, sam apologists dni, samgladiator will be mentioned but he is a villain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 05:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoticinsanity/pseuds/hypnoticinsanity
Summary: grian escaped a world once. a world that left him traumatized. trauma that made his throat go dry when he came across white rabbits, or when the topic of school came up, or..the point was, he escaped. he was recovering, and he had a family that was helping him do it.until one day, with a strange nightmare and an even stranger alert from his communicator, he finds himself face to face with a glimpse into what could have been.or, grian finds himself face to face with another version of himself, a version that never escaped sam's twisted world until he was ripped from it by force.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	to kill a rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> this will include references to yhs, ts, kov, etc. which are the series' made by samgladiator that include grian, taurtis, and sam. I have not fully watched any of these series and will just be making up my own stuff so.. if things don't seem 100% accurate to those stories, chances are, they aren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW  
> graphic violence in this chapter, starting at "he feels blood coating his hands" and ending at the end of the chapter.
> 
> also, as a note for the beginning of this story, a lot of hermits are tagged, and a good few are not. the reasoning for this is because, for a certain portion of the story, some hermits will make appearances as.. not themselves, and so for the hermits who will spend a majority of the story like that, I haven't tagged them as a character.

_ He’s running. His feet pound against the pavement rhythmically, heart thumping painfully in time with the soles of his shoes. For just a moment, he’s not even sure what he’s running from, he just knows that the fear that seems to take root in his bones is pushing him forwards, through the maze of buildings and yards he races past. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with him, to realize why his fear is so prominent.  _

_ His first thought is that the city he’s racing through couldn’t possibly be Keralis’. The buildings surrounding him aren’t built the right way or built to be nearly as impressive as his. He’s not at home, on Hermitcraft then. He couldn’t possibly be. And yet, it feels so familiar. So familiar in a way that doesn’t do anything to settle his nerves.  _

_ His second thought is spent taking notice of the sleeves bunched up around his elbows, the **tan** sleeves, tight and scratchy on his skin, and not at all like his usual red sweater. The thought that it’s so vividly different and so, so familiar registers in his mind, but the fog muddling with his thoughts keeps him from the answer.  _

_ His third thought is interrupted by a burst of panic sparking through his veins when he looks up from his sleeves a moment too late, unable to turn in time to escape the dead end alley he’d darted into. His hands land on the smooth concrete wall enclosing the space, trapping him thoroughly. For a moment, all he can hear is his heart and the raspy, shallow breaths that escape his mouth in bursts, and not the footsteps of whatever it was that was chasing him. The cool temperature and return of air to his lungs forces the fog from his mind, finally allowing the dots to connect. His blood runs cold in the same instant that he feels a presence over his shoulder. A presence he recognizes, even with his eyes on the cool gray wall, and he swears he can feel his heart stop. “You can’t lose me that easily, Gree-on.” _

* * *

Grian woke with a near painful shudder, shooting straight up in bed. He wasn’t crying, not exactly, but his small form shook near violently as he struggled to ground himself. Shallow, shuddery breaths left his lips, each breath slowly drawing out until his chest stopped aching with a lack of proper airflow. Even as the shaking dialed back until the man was only trembling softly, his fingers clutched at his biceps, knuckles white with the force behind his grip and mind temporarily numb to the pain stemming from his own nails. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed by the time he finally let go, but the room wasn’t quite as dark as it’d been when he’d first woke up. He spared a glance to the angry red marks on his skin, reacting with nothing more than a soft sigh before he let his gaze fall and slipped out from beneath his covers. 

Even with the darkness coating the room, Grian moved with ease, stepping towards the armor stand at the base of his bed and sliding the elytra from the wooden frame. The straps fit easily over his slim shoulders, and he was about to turn to the balcony when he paused. He hadn’t bothered to switch out from the plain shirt and pajama pants he’d first fallen asleep in, and he was setting off with thoughts of finding a hermit to keep company. It didn’t matter, really, he decided, stepping up and off the balcony in a smooth motion, the sun wasn’t even rising yet, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t wearing  _ clothes _ . It was fine. 

The wind biting at Grian’s face finally broke him from the partial daze he’d been in since waking from the nightmare, and the man closed his eyes into it for a moment, letting the feeling of flying calm his still frazzled nerves. He opened them again as he felt himself descending slowly, power from his first rocket fizzling out and landing him above Scar’s village, where he was surprised to see the man himself stepping out from one of the buildings. For just a moment, he wondered if Scar would mind his presence at such a time, and that was all he needed to decide that, no, he probably wouldn’t. He landed swiftly in front of the brunette, stumbling a bit as he did so and startling Scar into dropping the box in his hand. “Jeez! Grian, where’d you come from?”

“Sorry, Scar, didn’t mean to startle you.” Grian offered his friend an apologetic smile that Scar was quick to return as he tucked the box back under one arm. “Though maybe that’s what you get, being awake this late.”

“Hey! I don’t deserve to be spooked ever, thank you very much. Besides, you’re awake too, hypocrite.” Scar cut himself off with a yawn. “Speaking of which, why  _ are _ you awake, G?”

A duller feeling of panic spread through Grian’s veins at Scar’s question, caught off guard with no immediate excuse. Realistically, he should’ve known that Scar would ask, he’d never been anything less than a deeply caring friend. With a soft chuckle, the blonde flashed Scar a grin and shrugged, pressing the panic down inside. “Woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make me a hypocrite since I got  _ some _ sleep.”

“Suuure, G.” With a roll of his eyes, Scar gently smacked Grian’s shoulder with the back of his hand as he moved past him and further along the path. “I was just about to head inside to put my extra materials away, do you want to come in for a drink or something?”

Grian’s face lit up at the offer, pleasantly surprised at how easy it’d been to find someone willing to talk until he could handle the lingering fear on his own. “Absolutely. So long as you go to sleep when I leave, mister mayor.” He had to jog a bit to catch up to Scar, falling in step beside him as he led the way towards Larry the snail, and the still-missing front door. He heard the man chuckle quietly at his comment before moving inside. 

“Say, have you ever tried making hot chocolate with the cocoa in this jungle, Grian?” 

“Mm, can’t say I have, no.”

“Well! You’ve been missing out then. Come on, I can make a pot now.”

Grian stepped inside without hesitation then, letting the light and warmth of Scar’s presence flood his lingering anxiety, and let himself relax in the sound of his friend’s gentle voice. 

* * *

He feels blood coating his hands. His knuckles are near white beneath the coating of red, with how tightly he holds the knife. Slowly, fingers trembling, he lifts one hand to his face, as if to make sure that the blood is real, that it’s not a dream. It isn’t. The blood smells so much different than his own, it nearly makes him smile.

He adjusts his grip on the handle of the knife and plunges it down again. Pressing the blade between the ribs of the man below him, relishing in the way he can feel him, dying beneath him, slowly. He hates it, too. He hates that he hates him, somewhere deep within him. He hates what he’s become. He twists the knife a little more at the thought. 

He doesn't bother to remove the knife, once he's sure that the man below is dead. He only stands, silent, and turns, shoulders squared, to leave him behind entirely. 

He doesn't make it further than a single step before he falls to his knees with a piercing scream as pain shoots through his body. It’s not a physical injury, he knows instantly. He knows pain. He knows it well. It doesn’t feel like anything akin to a broken bone, or being burned, or hell, even the knives that cut through his skin like butter. No, it feels like he’s being ripped apart from the inside out, losing more of himself than ever before. 

And when he looks down, to where his bloody hands grip his chest, he realizes that he is.

It’s slow, and painful, his file corruption. He can feel it, down to his bones, the way the world falls apart, trying to delete him and unable to, trying to rip him apart by force, yet still unable. A searing hot pain fills the inside of his skull, and finally, he cries out again as the world disappears around him. He feels his body continue to rip apart, now unable to watch in horror as it does. Until, suddenly, the pain morphs into a different sort of pain, as his vision returns slowly and he realizes it's the feeling of his body stitching back together. Distinctly, he's aware of how, with every passing moment, his body continues to feel less and less like his. 

He falls backward when his vision finally returns completely, eyes sliding shut and body giving in to exhaustion, as the pain continues to dull. Somewhere in his barely conscious state, he realizes that the ground beneath him is sand. He doesn't have the time to think much more of it, before the darkness consumes him. 

_ ḙ̶̫͉̻͖̅̈́̓̌r̛̦̯̟̹ͭ̓ͫr̸̰͙̲͍͔͈̥̺̈͛͛̐ȯ҉̭̖̩̳ṛ̓̐̅͢ͅ Grian joined the game.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you needed to skip over the described gore and violence, here is a quick summary:  
> an unnamed person has killed another unnamed person violently. he turns away from the dead body, and ends up in a lot of pain as he is ripped from his timeline to a completely different one. error grian joined the game. 
> 
> also note: other chapters will hopefully be longer, but seeing as this one is just setting up the plot, it's a bit short. sorry!


End file.
